


Give a Little

by Engineer104



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-13 21:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11768580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Engineer104/pseuds/Engineer104
Summary: Problem: Your crush who happens to be one of your best friends likes someone else.Solution: Pretend to date him.





	Give a Little

**Author's Note:**

> This is the least angsty fake dating AU I have ever seen. But anyway
> 
> (also I can't believe my first complete Voltron fic is a fake dating AU considering i lean more towards gen)
> 
> Title is from the Florence + the Machine song 'Hiding'
> 
> It probably goes without saying but there's background Shallura

"You want me to...what?"

"Be my fake girlfriend," Lance said in a rush, staring at Pidge.

Pidge rubbed her face. "It's too early to deal with this shit." She hated morning classes, almost as much as she hated going to them without drinking coffee, but she had woken up late after going to sleep late (as usual) and hadn't had time in the morning. And now here Lance was right after, ambushing her with this... _absurd_ request.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why else than to make Allura jealous?" said Lance. He followed her into the cafe, holding the door open for her, then got in line right behind her.

"She's not interested in you, Lance," Pidge said, a little harshly.

"I know," Lance said, rolling his eyes. "That's the _point_ , to _get_  her interest."

Pidge glared at him skeptically. "You know that never works, right?" she said.

"In movies, maybe, but in real life? Who knows!"

"You're unbelievable," she muttered. They reached the front of the line, and she ordered a black coffee, dark roast.

"I'll enable your coffee habit for the rest of the year if you do me this solid," Lance hissed at her.

Pidge considered, then shrugged. "No thanks," she said. She paid the cashier with cash when he passed her the coffee, and deposited the change in the tip jar. She opened the cup to add a packet of sugar, smiling when the steam fogged up her glasses. She was stirring when Lance rejoined her, a crumpled up receipt in his hand.

"Really?" he said, stunned. "Not even _caffeine_ moves you?"

Pidge sighed, considering. "Look, if it's so important to you, why not ask someone _else_? Like, I don't know, Hunk?"

"I thought about it," Lance admitted, "but to woo a girl, I must make it clear that I am open to being with _girls_ , obviously."

"Obviously," Pidge said, rolling her eyes.

"And you are, to put it simply, my best female friend."

"Gee, thanks," Pidge muttered. "I'm _so_  glad you noticed."

"Hey, it's not _my_  fault you presented like a guy when we met!" Lance retorted.

Pidge smirked, sipping at her coffee. She would never let that go, and a part of her was glad she got to know him  _without_  him trying to flirt with her like he did with almost any other girl.

(But the rest of her wondered.)

The barista called Lance's name, and he left her to pick up his drink. When he came back, they left the cafe and headed in the direction of the library.

"Okay," said Pidge, sighing heavily.

"Okay what?"

"I'll... _think_  about it," she said.

"Really?" Lance said. She hated how hopeful he looked, hopeful enough that she might've agreed to doing anything for him short of jumping off a bridge.

"I'll _think_  about it, Lance," Pidge emphasized. "And if I say no, you won't ask me again, _right_?" She glared at him, waiting for him to agree.

He sighed and rolled his eyes but said, "Sure. If you say no, I won't bother you about fake dating again."

* * *

Pidge later met Hunk to work on homework for a class they had together. And while they worked, Pidge explained her...dilemma. 

"You know," Hunk demurred, "this always ends the same exact way in movies and TV shows."

"Oh yeah?" said Pidge as she absentmindedly cleaned her glasses.

"Yeah," said Hunk. "Someone pretends to date someone else to make their crush jealous, then after a series of misunderstandings and lots of sexual tension, the two fake dating start dating for real, because one or both of them were in love the whole time."

Pidge wrinkled her nose at the mention of 'sexual tension'. "That's because those are as fake as the dating, Hunk," she pointed out reasonably. "And maybe I _do_  like Lance, but we have zero sexual tension."

"Well, yeah," Hunk said, "but that's because you're as asexual as a snail."

"Okay, true," said Pidge, pointing at him over their homework, "but I don't appreciate you comparing me to a slimy invertebrate."

"Noted," said Hunk, shrugging. Then he was smiling again, and Pidge was on her guard. Whenever Hunk smiled like that, well, she had reason to be suspicious. "What if I...told him?"

"Told him what?" Pidge wondered, though she knew exactly what.

"Oh, you know," said Hunk coyly, "that your favorite color is green, obviously."

"He knows that," Pidge grumbled. She hated it when Hunk was sarcastic; it didn't _suit_  him.

"That you're secretly a dog person."

"So is he!" she retorted. "So are _you_!"

"Hey, I like dogs and cats equally," Hunk said, raising his hands defensively. "I just didn't want to tell Keith that his cat is an asshole."

"A cute asshole, at least," Pidge agreed. Not for the first time, she wondered how Keith managed to hide a cat in an apartment building that did not technically allow pets and where the landlord was constantly breathing down the tenants' necks; sorcery, probably.

"I'll tell him that you...liiiiike him," said Hunk, grinning impishly.

"No," said Pidge.

"Yes!" said Hunk.

"Why?" Pidge demanded. Their homework lay abandoned on the table, the conversation superceding it in importance.

"Because your pining is a little sad, dude," Hunk said, patting her shoulder consolingly.

"I'm not _pining_ ," Pidge said, shrugging Hunk's shoulder away.

"Are you sure?"

Pidge ignored that question. "Besides, I can't... _resolve_  this by _dating_  him. For one, he doesn't reciprocate."

"You don't know that," said Hunk.

"And you do?"

"All right, you got me there," Hunk admitted, frowning. "But what else is there?"

Pidge played with her hair; it was a habit she always fell back on when she was uncomfortable, one she hadn't been able to quit even when she chopped it all off in her first year of college. "Oh, I don't know," she grumbled sarcastically. "Maybe because even if, by some very slim chance, he _does_  reciprocate, he'll expect things of me that I can't give him."

"I see," said Hunk. He steepled his fingers over his homework. "That's fair, I guess. But again, you don't know that he wouldn't respect that."

"Maybe not," Pidge agreed, "but I'd rather not take that chance."

* * *

"Okay, here's the deal," said Pidge. She was over at Lance's and Hunk's shared apartment, where she had come straight from her house after thinking and deliberating and thinking while trying to focus on her homework. 

"I'm listening," said Lance. Damn, why did he have to _smile_  like that just because she agreed to his stupid idea?

"We don't kiss," she said, "ever."

"Sure, we...don't have to do that." Was it just her imagination, or did Lance sound...disappointed?

"When we hold hands, you make sure it's always my right hand." She held it up for emphasis.

"Easy enough," he said.

"I tell my brother what's going on," she said.

"Oh, no no no," Lance said quickly, waving his hands. "Your brother will tell Shiro a minute after you tell him not to."

Of course. Shiro, the graduate student Allura was _actually_  interested in, as _anyone_ , even Keith's mean cat, could see. If Pidge wasn't so annoyed with him right now, she might feel sorry for Lance.

"Matt can keep a secret," she retorted loyally.

Lance sighed. "Fine," he said. "But I'm telling Hunk."

"He already knows," said Pidge.

"You talked about this with him already?"

"Well, yeah," she said, shrugging. "And you didn't?"

Lance grimaced. "I did," he admitted.

"Then what's the big deal?"

He glared at her. "Let me guess, you also want to inform _Keith_?"

Pidge rolled her eyes. "Would you lay off him for a bit? And no, actually, because telling Keith is more a surefire way to make sure Shiro knows than telling Matt." She crossed her arms.

Lance actually looked vindicated at this. "Oh, good, you _can_  be reasonable."

"Hey, I happen to be _very_  reasonable," Pidge retorted.

"Really?" Lance said, raising an eyebrow at her. "Because it's not reasonable to hack my Instagram account and delete all my posts while replacing them with images of the squirrel thing from _Ice Age_  in revenge for dyeing your dog's fur green. Besides, you _like_  green."

"Okay, that's fair," said Pidge, "but my mom was mad about the mess Gunther made, and my hacking could've ended a lot worse you know."

Lance frowned at her, then smiled. "Look, I know you don't really _want_  to date me, for real or for fake."

_You have no idea._  

"But...thank you, Pidge," said Lance. "I'll find some way to make it up to you, I promise." He hugged her, his arms wrapping snugly around her shoulders, her face buried in his chest.

"Yeah, whatever," said Pidge, voice muffled by the fabric of his jacket. "I can pretend for a few weeks."

The hug ended much too soon for her, though.

* * *

Matt took it about as well as she would have expected. 

"It's not going to work out for either of you," he pointed out while stirring sugar into his tea.

Pidge leaned her face over her own mug, ignoring the steam fogging up her glasses. "Maybe not," she said.

"Besides," continued Matt, "I can't tell if you agreed out of selflessness or selfishness."

Pidge snorted. She sipped at her tea. "Probably both," she decided.

"Just be careful," said Matt, frowning over his tea. "I know you like to think you don't have feelings--"

"Since when?!" Pidge sputtered.

"--but heartbreak _is_  pretty terrible." Matt pointed at her. "Imagine failing a class."

"Oh, God forbid," Pidge said, horrified.

"It's like that, but worse."

Pidge tilted her head at him. "You know, I don't believe that."

Matt laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Well, let's hope you don't have to find out."

* * *

For the first week or so of their arrangement, everything was pretty...normal. At least until Lance came over to discuss their first plan of attack. 

"Operation: Fake is a go," Lance said.

"You don't...have to say that," said Pidge. She crossed her arms. "Is something happening this weekend?"

"Yes!" said Lance. He sounded excited, which was not altogether unusual, but considering their...agreement, it put Pidge on guard. "This weekend is the engineering college's mixer thing."

"I know," she said. "Weren't you already planning on going?" She had been debating it, swinging between 'yes' to 'no I would rather get ahead on my homework' every day for the last two weeks.

"Yes, but that's not the point." Lance waved his hand dismissively. "What _is_  the point is that Allura is surely going." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"And...?"

Lance groaned. "Pidge, you are the _worst_  fake girlfriend ever."

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him. "How many have you had?"

"Ha ha," he said, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, let's make it a date. And go together." He gave her his most charming smile, one he usually saved for girls he was _actually_  trying to woo. 

It made her insides squirm in a way that was not unpleasant.

She still didn't like it.

"Fine," Pidge said. She had agreed, after all, so what was an _actual_   fake date?

(She silently snickered at the oxymoron.)

"I'll pick you up at six then?" Lance offered.

"With what car?" Pidge asked with a snort. "I'm the one with a vehicle."

"I'm not riding on your deathtrap!"

"Green is _not_  a deathtrap! Besides, I got another helmet after our last...incident." She twirled a piece of hair around her finger, flushing when she remembered the time Lance rode with her on her Vespa, when they were pulled over by campus police for not wearing helmets.

"I'm still surprised you didn't already have one for your brother," said Lance. He looked relieved at the news though.

"He refuses to ride with me anymore," Pidge admitted with a sigh. "Anyway, we have a deal?"

"Yeah," Lance said. "Please don't kill me though."

"I make no promises." She shot him an impish smile.

* * *

The question of what to wear to the mixer troubled Pidge more than she would have thought. For one, a skirt or dress was out since they were taking her Vespa, and for another, well, why should she put in any effort to look nice for a date that wasn't, well, _real_?

Not that she ever went on a real date.

In the end, she settled on a green blouse cinched in with a gold-colored chain at her waist over nice white slacks. She wore her contact lenses rather than her glasses, asked her mother to borrow a redder shade of lipstick than she might usually choose to wear, and even wore a pair of earrings shaped like caffeine molecules (they had been a gift from her father on her last birthday). She even managed to wrestle her hair into a decent, if plain, style by tying it to the side so that it fell over her shoulder; anything fancier would be ruined by her helmet. Overall, the effect was one she was pleased with, despite still wearing her regular high-topped sneakers.

When Matt passed by her room on the way to the kitchen, he froze in the doorway. "Uh, what are you doing?" he asked, pointing at the bottle of mascara in her hand.

"Uh, getting ready?" she replied. "The mixer is tonight?"

"Yes, true." Matt, a graduate student, was also dressed nicer than usual for the event, in a plaid button-down, untucked, over khakis. "But you never wear makeup unless Mom _makes_  you." He squinted at her, suspicious. "I thought you were only _faking_  with Lance."

"I am," Pidge said.

"Then who are you trying to impress?" demanded Matt.

"Myself," Pidge said, defensive. She put the mascara aside and faced Matt. "Got a problem with that?"

"No, of course not," Matt placated her. "Just checking to make sure my sister wasn't replaced with an alien."

Pidge grinned.

By mutual agreement, she and Lance decided to go separately from Hunk or any of their other friends, the better to make it seem like they were a real couple. Still, when she stood outside their apartment building, she could not help feeling a little guilty that Hunk was left to go alone.

"Oh, he's not going alone," Lance reassured her when she expressed her concern. He smiled, lopsided and suggestive. " _Shay_  is going with him."

"Finally!" said Pidge. She passed the new helmet to Lance, who managed to strap it on without too much input from her.

"That's what I said, but you know what he told me?"

"That it's 'not a date'?"

Lance sighed and said, "Word for word, yes."

They commiserated on their mutual best friend's romantic woes for a moment, then Pidge climbed aboard her Vespa. It lurched slightly when Lance sat behind her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist.

He was warm, and heavy enough - especially compared to her - that the first time she'd taken him for a ride even she worried her poor little Vespa would be unbalanced.

"Do we look cool?" Lance asked as she fired up the tiny engine.

"Very fly," said Pidge.

It was a short ride from his apartment to campus. When they dismounted, Pidge sort of missed the feeling of his arms around her, but she shook that thought away. She buckled her helmet to her seat, and Lance complained about his mussed hair when he gave her his.

"You look fine," she told him. More than fine, probably. He wore a light blue shirt, the top button undone (very fashionable, she noted wryly), and dark wash jeans; the contrast was aesthetically pleasing, despite the presence of his usual dark green jacket.

"Thanks," he said, sticking his tongue out at her. She returned the gesture.

Lance took her hand as they walked to where the mixer was being held. They mostly walked in silence, Lance lightly teasing her for her driving ("I think you ran, like, five red lights." "Lance, there aren't even five traffic lights between your apartment and campus!") and...

"You know, you look good too," he said, without a hint of teasing.

Surprised, she glanced sideways at him, and he offered her a small smile. "I...thanks." She tried not to sound flustered or stunned, but doubted she succeeded.

At the door to the mixer, Pidge was quick to pay for her own ticket ("We're not _that_  into each other, right?" she joked while Lance rolled his eyes and pouted). Inside, the lights were dimmed and it was crowded enough that her short stature made it difficult for her to maneuver, but Lance took over steering and led the way around clusters of engineering students, who could be remarkably outgoing when the mood struck.

"Is Hunk here yet?" she asked. There was music playing, but it wasn't loud enough to make conversation difficult.

"I think he wanted to take Shay for dinner first," Lance said.

"How is _that_  not a date?" Pidge asked, amazed.

"I know!" Lance looked around, then pointed towards the wall. He squeezed her hand - why? - and said, "I see Shiro! Let's go."

Pidge followed him, smiling at classmates that greeted her as she walked along. She even heard one say, "I didn't know Pidge was a girl!" as they passed and bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

It didn't take too long to find Shiro and, of course, Allura, impeccable as always in a pink floral dress that fell just past her knees. And surprisingly, Keith, who leaned listlessly against the wall (Shiro must have dragged him along against his will) and looked fairly dapper dressed all in black except for a skinny red tie knotted unevenly.

It was also Keith that was the first to spot them, as he looked up from the floor, his bored expression morphing into shock. His eyes popped comically as they zeroed in on Pidge's hand in Lance's.

"Hello, Shiro," said Lance, smiling. "Allura." His smile widened, and Pidge's heart thumped almost painfully as she remembered he was pretending.

"Hey, Lance," Shiro greeted, returning the smile. He looked at Pidge, warm. "I'm surprised you'd come to something like this, Pidge."

"Oh, you know," said Pidge, shrugging and feeling uncomfortable, "I figured I might as well since I'm graduating this year."

"Oh, yes, congratulations on graduating early, Pidge!" said Allura. She grinned at her.

Allura was so nice and warm that it was impossible for Pidge to be jealous of her. "Thanks!" she said, cheerful for once. Dammit, she _liked_  when people recognized her achievements.

"Wait, you're graduating early?" Lance said, turning his head to stare at her and frowning.

"Oh, yeah, I only found out last week," Pidge reassured him. So far, she had only told her parents and Matt, who certainly told Shiro, who must have told Allura.

Lance's hurt expression had the unintended effect of annoying her; why did he think _he_  had a right to know? She resisted the urge to yank her hand away and instead glanced at Keith.

"Hi, Keith," she said. "How's your cat?"

Keith actually smiled. "Soft and always hungry."

"Sounds like every pet," Lance commented with a snort.

Keith rolled his eyes but didn't rise to the bait, instead crossing his arms.

Allura looked between Lance and Pidge. "So how long have you been together?"

"Two weeks," Lance said at the same time that Pidge said, "A few days." They glanced at each other then, eyes wide. Pidge could read the panic in his expression, how he thought _why didn't we talk about this earlier_.

"My, how time flies when you're in love!" Lance recovered quickly - and excessively in Pidge's opinion. "It feels like it's been days!"

_Damn my pale skin!_  she thought as her cheeks warmed.

Keith covered his mouth with his hand, coughing, though she suspected he was trying not to laugh. 

Shiro smiled and glanced at Allura, who rested a hand on his arm. "It does," he agreed.

Lance frowned again, which Pidge took as her cue to drag him away, excusing them by claiming to want to check out the snacks and oh, they would be right back.

"What are you doing?" Lance hissed once there were at least ten people between them and the others. "The point is to be _visible_ , you know."

Pidge snatched her hand away and crossed her arms. "You can stand to be more subtle," she retorted. "What good is _fake dating_  if you can't even be convincing?"

"I thought something was weird about you two," someone interrupted.

They turned away from their budding argument to round on Keith. He had his arms crossed, smirking at them, and for once Pidge understood why Lance might have disliked him at first.

"Oh, what do you want, Keith?" Lance demanded.

Keith's smirk vanished, his face turning serious. "Just to know what you're up to."

"Why?" Pidge and Lance asked together.

"Why do you think?" Keith said, scowling.

"To ruin everything," said Lance.

"Seriously?" he replied. "Why do you think so badly of me?"

"Because--"

"Okay, stop," Pidge said, stepping between them before the fight could grow out of hand. She looked at Keith. "Fine, Lance and I aren't _really_  together; he just wants to make Allura jealous."

"Pidge!" Lance said, horrified that she would tell his 'rival' so much.

She glared at him. "Can't you see this won't work?" she said.

"It won't," Keith agreed. "Allura asked Shiro out two weeks ago." He smirked again. "Or was it a few days ago? I can't remember."

"You--"

"Hey guys!" they were interrupted yet again, this time by Hunk and Shay.

"Hi," said Shay, waving shyly at them.

The three of them rounded on the newcomers, Lance stiffly, Pidge relieved, and Keith annoyed. Hunk, tactful as usual, frowned.

"Uh, we'll find you later," he said, leading Shay towards where he must've spotted Shiro and Allura.

"Okay, so this won't work?" said Lance, resuming their conversation. "Then what do you suggest?" He stared at Pidge, challenging.

"Give it up," said Keith.

"I wasn't talking to you, Keith," he retorted.

"Give it up," said Pidge. She clasped her hands together and stared at the floor.

"Oh," said Lance, the fire seeming to die right out of him.

Keith looked from Pidge to Lance and back again, his eyes wide, as if he had lost track of the discussion. "This has nothing to do with me anymore," he decided, taking a step away.

"It had nothing to do with you in the first place," Lance said, without his usual bite.

"Whatever." He left, mumbling, "Shiro promised I'd have _fun_."

"Now what?" Lance asked, subdued.

"We fake breakup?" Pidge said. She hated how disappointed her own voice sounded.

"I...I guess," said Lance, though he didn't sound enthusiastic.

"Keith's right," she told him. "I'm sorry, Lance, but Allura isn't interested in you, and I don't think she ever will be."

Lance sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I know," he admitted. He glanced at where the rest were standing. Pidge followed his gaze, her eyes meeting Hunk's, who excused himself and approached them.

"What's wrong?" Hunk asked, looking between the two of them.

"We...'broke up'," Lance said, using air quotes.

"Oh," said Hunk. He frowned. "You giving up?"

"Yeah," said Lance. He rubbed at his eyes.

"That's too bad." Hunk patted his shoulder. "But I'm glad you're moving on."

"Thanks."

Hunk then looked pointedly at Pidge. "What now?"

Lance, though, didn't seem to notice Hunk's look, and replied, "We're still friends, aren't we?" He sounded hopeful, if dejected, and Pidge couldn't believe he had to ask.

"I can't believe you have to ask," she said. She offered a smile, and was so glad when he reciprocated.

"Let's just try to have fun tonight, right?" Lance said.

"Yeah," Pidge agreed.

They chatted idly with the rest for another hour, not bothering to hold hands or otherwise 'act cute', and if the others noticed the change in atmosphere - which, despite their reassurances, still felt chilly to Pidge - they were tactful enough not to mention it. Keith, though, seemed unusually chagrined, despite getting what he wanted.

Lance teased Hunk about Shay, and Pidge complained to Shiro about her projects, and everything was...normal enough. But Pidge felt like it was an end of an era, and knew her relationship - platonic or otherwise - with Lance had shifted beyond repair.

It was enough to make anyone lose interest in a party, even Lance, and they made their excuses and left soon after.

To Pidge's surprise though, Keith followed them out.

"Hey, Pidge, can I talk to you for a second?" he asked.

She glanced at Lance, who shrugged and wandered away to give them privacy, and then turned her attention to Keith. "Sure, what's up?"

"I'm...sorry," he said, to her surprise. "I probably could've handled that better."

Pidge shrugged. "It doesn't matter now," she said. "You were right."

"I know," Keith said, "but..." He looked down the path, towards where Lance loitered, waiting for her. He seemed to consider something, then reached forward and grabbed her into a hug.

Pidge fell into him, her face in his chest, and since she was taken off-guard she got a mouthful of his tie. She returned the hug, wrapping her own arms loosely across his back. "Not that I'm complaining, but what's this for?"

"You'll see," Keith promised.

Which was uncharacteristically cryptic for someone who was nothing if not plainspoken, but his hug was warm, if a little rough, so Pidge didn't complain. They pulled apart after a moment, and she waved at him as she followed Lance. He smiled and waved back.

When she caught sight of Lance's face, she was taken by surprise at the scowl he sent in Keith's direction. "What did he do _this_  time?" she demanded.

"What...what was _that_  for?" he asked in response, indignant.

"It was just a hug, Lance," Pidge said, rolling her eyes. "Hunk and I hug all the time." She led the way back to the parking lot, shivering slightly at the chilly night air.

Lance seemed to soften a bit, and shrugged out of his jacket. "Here," he said, handing it to her.

"Aren't you cold now?" Pidge asked, accepting it and putting it on. It was warm with his body heat, and she was glad it was dark and he wouldn't be able to see her blush.

"No, I'm fine." He crossed his arms though, so she suspected he was lying.

They didn't talk much, for which Pidge was grateful. What was there even to talk _about_  at this point? Still, she disliked the silence, especially since Lance was typically brimming with exuberance, and he made not a single quip about her driving as they put on their helmets and mounted the Vespa.

Outside the apartment building, Lance climbed down from the scooter. He took off his helmet and latched it onto the seat behind her, lingering longer than he probably needed to.

"If you want to say something, just say it," Pidge said impatiently.

Lance sighed, looking in the direction of his apartment. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That you're graduating early."

Oh, that. Pidge slipped down from her Vespa to join him. "I don't know, I've been kind of overwhelmed lately."

"Have you told Hunk?" Lance glanced sideways at her.

Pidge toyed with the zipper of his jacket, contemplating. "Would it make you feel better if I say no?"

"Yes," he admitted.

Pidge rolled her eyes. "I only told my family," she said. "Matt must've told Shiro."

"I told you he can't keep a secret," Lance said with a trace of humor.

She punched him lightly in the arm, and he laughed, rubbing where her knuckles collided.

"You gonna be okay on the ride home in the dark?" he asked.

"Sure," she said. "I've ridden late plenty of times."

"Okay." Lance stared at her for another minute, looking like he wanted to say something, before apparently deciding better and bidding her good night.

Pidge was halfway home when she realized she still wore his jacket.

* * *

Sunday evening saw Pidge debugging code for a project due at midnight. She had practically inhaled her dinner in her rush to get back to it, and she'd be damned if she left her self-indulgent procrastination from Saturday ruin her grade for this class. 

(Never mind why she had felt the need to _self-indulgently procrastinate_. She had asked Matt to paint her toes a neon green, and he obliged without question; his quick sympathy had instantly made her suspicious of what he knew.)

The doorbell rang, but Pidge ignored it, knowing Matt or her mother would answer and probably give whoever was there grief for the hour. She ran her code again, and when it came up with another error message, she muttered, "If it's a missing semi-colon I'm going to flip a table."

"I would like to see _that_."

Pidge jumped, spinning around in her chair to see Lance standing in her bedroom doorway. She gaped at him dumbly, but when he smiled - warmly, so warmly - at her she demanded, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"What, not happy to see me?" He still smiled, but it seemed to wane, as if his confidence failed him.

"I, uh, um." Pidge wasn't sure what, exactly, she felt at the sight of him. Then she remembered that she still had his jacket. "I was planning on returning your jacket tomorrow."

"Oh, that's...not that big a deal." He rubbed the back of his neck, something she recognized as a nervous tic. "I'm here for...something else."

"Well, I've got a project I need to finish so make it quick." Gruffness made her feel better, made her forget why she spent Saturday in half a mope in the first place.

"Pidge."

"Lance."

Lance cleared his throat and straightened his back, and Pidge waited. They stared at each other, Lance nervous for a reason she couldn't understand, and Pidge impatient.

"Can't this wait till tomorrow?" Pidge asked, sighing.

"Probably," admitted Lance, "but I don't want it to."

"Okay?"

"Uh, this is harder than I thought it would be." He paced, his long legs making a short journey of the little available amount of floorspace.

"You're not making any sense," she said, "but take your time." She waved her hand at him and returned to her code, determined not to let him distract her.

"Look, I've never done this without a line, or anything."

"Mmm hmm." Pidge only half-heard him.

"And if I _did_  use a line on you, you'd probably laugh in my face and push me out of your house on my ass."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." And she didn't.

Lance sighed, loudly. "Pidge," he practically whined, "you're not making this easy."

"Hey, whatever this is, you don't need me to hold your hand." She glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes widening when she caught sight of a flush dusting his cheeks and nose.

"Um, well, that's the thing." Lance gestured vaguely yet emphatically. "I...kind of... _want_  you to?"

Pidge turned around again and crossed her arms. "Want me to what?"

"Hold my hand?" He slouched, whatever confidence he had before deflating him as she watched.

"Oh," Pidge said, her voice quiet and stunned. "Is that a...is that a question?"

"Yes?"

She rubbed her eyes, shifting her glasses as she did, then looked at Lance. "You kind of...you kind of hurt my feelings."

"I know," he said.

"I've liked you for a while," she admitted.

"I know."

"You do?" she said, staring.

He nodded. "I...Hunk clued me in." He shrugged, smiling sheepishly.

Pidge's heart beat faster. "I don't want to be your second choice, or some kind of consolation prize."

"Oh, trust me, you're not." He grinned widely. "Pidge, I, well, I want to date you for real.

She fought a smile. She _wanted_  to believe him, but she wasn't sure she was ready to. "Dating me won't be...easy."

Lance face fell. "I don't follow."

"I'm, uh..." She rubbed her arms, hugging herself. "Lance, I'm asexual."

"Oh. Okay." He stared at her. "So?"

" _So_  that means I will never want to, you know..." She waved her hands and inhaled deeply, reminding herself she was a _mature adult_  who could _definitely_  have a conversation about her boundaries dammit. "I will never want to have sex with you."

Lance raised an eyebrow at her. "Okay."

" _Okay?_ "

"Yeah." He shrugged. "So what?"

"Look, Lance, I will never change my mind, ever," she clarified.

"And I'm not changing mine."

She buried her face in her hands. She wasn't sure if she was suddenly the luckiest person alive...or if this would backfire on her in a few months. She wasn't sure if her hope was now realistic...or if Lance didn't understand what she was telling him.

"Lance," she whined.

"Pidge."

She snorted.

"You can have time to think about it, if you want?" Lance said. His voice had a trace of disappointment in it this time.

"No, I think I'm good." She lifted her face from her hands and stood up. "Yeah, I'm good." She smiled.

He grinned back and swooped over to hug her. She returned his embrace without hesitation. She was almost comically shorter than him, her nose level with his collarbone, his chin resting on her head.

"Oh, I have a quick question about your...limits," he said, his voice rumbling pleasantly through her.

"What's that?"

"How do you feel about kissing?"

Pidge shifted so she could look up at him. "Don't know," she admitted, their eyes meeting. "Let's find out?" She reached up, her hand on the back of his head to pull it down. She met him halfway, standing on her toes.

It wasn't bad; she actually kind of liked it, though it wasn't _quite_  the thrill that all the young adult novels she consumed once upon a time had promised her.

A loud cough interrupted them, and Pidge turned her head to glare at her brother. "What?" she demanded.

"I thought you were working on an assignment?" Matt asked, raising an eyebrow at them.

"You're the one that let him in," Pidge pointed out.

"Um," said Lance, looking from her to her brother, his eyes wide with a bit of alarm. His arms around her loosened, but he didn't pull away.

"Don't worry, Matt won't kill you," Pidge reassured him, patting his shoulder.

"Yeah, it's Pidge you'll have to worry about," Matt teased.

Pidge rolled her eyes.

"Anyway!" Matt said brightly. "Remember to keep the door open, yeah?" He waggled his eyebrows at her and left them.

"Uh, _should_  I worry?" Lance wondered.

Pidge looked up at him and smirked. "You tell me."

Lance snorted but he kissed her again. It was also brief, since he was wary of her boundaries, but no less pleasant. She snuggled into his arms, squeezing.

"...hugging me is better than hugging Keith, right?"

"Oh my God, Lance."

"What? I just need to know."

Pidge snorted. "Yes, yes it is," she said. She hummed thoughtfully, enjoying his warmth. "But now I probably owe Keith a cookie."

**Author's Note:**

> Please be kind in the comments.
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


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